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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26236282">Dabbles and Drabbles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyPrivateInsanity/pseuds/MyPrivateInsanity'>MyPrivateInsanity</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:55:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,769</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26236282</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyPrivateInsanity/pseuds/MyPrivateInsanity</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I'll occasionally add bits and bobs to this - isolated scenes, drabbles written for challenges, random pieces of writing that don't quite fit into something else. I hope you find something to like here.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">Back to School</span>
</p><p> </p><p class="p1">He’d never thought he’d make this journey again.</p><p class="p1">He’d lurked off to the side of the platform, making himself as unnoticeable as he could - futile, really, but his efforts, combined with people’s natural propensity to avoid him, gave him a fair amount of privacy.</p><p class="p1">He’d taken the compartment closest to the loos on the train - the least favored one. No one had joined him. He’d had to travel with the window open and his cloak on as they went through the crisp fall air, but at least he was undisturbed.</p><p class="p1">But there was no way to avoid this walk of shame - through the Castle doors, a right turn, into the Great Hall.</p><p class="p1">Through the Hall to the table where, if he had any luck at all (and that was questionable at best), there would be an empty section where he could isolate himself somehow in a room full of people.</p><p class="p1">His lips twisted as he thought, ironically, whether his odds would be better if he just walked through the school with a sign that said “I’m Draco Malfoy and I’m Sorry” round his neck.</p><p class="p1">Taking a deep breath and steeling himself, he walked into the Great Hall.</p><p class="p1">Did the murmur of voices quiet? Perhaps it was his imagination.</p><p class="p1">Assuming the most neutral expression he could, he began to make his way toward the Slytherin table.</p><p class="p1">Only to find his way impeded. Blocked. By the Brightest Witch of Their Age.</p><p class="p1">He suppressed his defensive sneer. No point; he’d long ago learned his lesson, even if no one would believe it. And Merlin knew there was nothing left to defend.</p><p class="p1">“Hullo, Draco,” she said, smiling at him. “Good to see you back.”</p><p class="p1">He stared, dumbfounded.</p><p class="p1">As she continued past, she paused, touching his arm. “Best foot forward," she murmured. "And try smiling; it makes you look more approachable.”</p><p class="p1">Almost too late, he stammered, “Hi, Gr - er - Hermione…”</p><p class="p1">He stood for a few seconds, absorbing what had happened; then, dredging up his best <em>I’m Pleased to Meet You</em> smile, he made his way through the Hall, looking people in the eye, toward the Slytherin table - and sat down amidst his classmates.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Parchment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>He didn’t dare to hope - but he wanted to do <i>something</i>. Before he had to file away his thoughts behind occlumency walls, he sat down at his desk. After thinking for a moment, he pulled out a square of parchment and his quill and began.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been months.</p>
<p>It felt like years.</p>
<p>Whoever had written that war consisted of long periods of boredom punctuated with moments of sheer terror got it right. </p>
<p>And it was doubly so if one were working both sides of the street, as it were.</p>
<p>During his sixth year at Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy had realized that he was in over his head - and that his father was either unwilling or unable to rescue him. Perhaps a bit of both. </p>
<p>His mother, born and bred to be a Pureblood princess, was in no better position. Skills in floral arrangements and the direction of house elves did not lend themselves well to coping in crises such as this.</p>
<p>He’d muddled along, his heart not in it but seeing no other way - the half-hearted efforts at stealth that failed so spectacularly, injuring classmates in the process. The Vanishing Cabinet, which he’d dawdled on as long as he could, but finally delivered in the hopes it would help save his parents. Confronting Dumbledore, a man his father despised but who had never been anything but kind to him - what glory in killing an old man? He couldn’t do it, which only made things harder for him.</p>
<p>But the final straw was Granger. The trio of them, really, but particularly Granger. He’d never liked her - nosy, bossy, prone to show off - but it didn’t mean he wanted her tortured to death in his drawing room by his aunt. Being a bit of a bitch wasn’t cause for murder. They were classmates. He’d known her for much of his life at that point.</p>
<p>That caused him to give up all hope that he could come through this unscathed. He’d have to do something to save himself - no one else was going to, it was clear.</p>
<p>So he went turncoat.</p>
<p>The Order had been skeptical, naturally, and assigned him to a single contact.  She could still be a bit of a bitch, but she could set aside differences for the sake of gaining critical information. </p>
<p>Things had been strained at first - more than strained, honestly. She was overly brisk and aggressive with him, and it got on his last nerve when she tried to boss him as she routinely did with Potter and Weasley. They’d ended up in a shouting match before things settled down. </p>
<p>And then it had gone from there. They’d found, oddly enough, that they shared a love for knowledge and detail. Esoteric bits of information that would bore most people were shared fascinations. Intellectual discussions that would put others off were entertainment for them.</p>
<p>As he stared unseeingly out his bedroom window, contemplating the turns his life had taken, he knew it was useless to hope, to try to plan for - or even guess at - his future. Too many variables existed. Either side could win, his life looking very different in each scenario. He could be killed tomorrow, either in a battle or if his dual-sided work were found out. He hadn’t wanted her to worry, but of course she would. And it had been months since they’d seen each other.</p>
<p>He didn’t dare to hope - but he wanted to do <i>something</i>. Before he had to file away his thoughts behind occlumency walls, he sat down at his desk. After thinking for a moment, he pulled out a square of parchment and his quill and began.</p>
<p>===================================</p>
<p>He’d gotten so he could sense the man’s approach, even before he heard the owl calling. Still, he waited until the quiet hoot sounded before he softly clicked his tongue and removed the mask. </p>
<p>The man suddenly appeared as he walked up, taking off the invisibility cloak. “Evening, Malfoy,” he said in a slow drawl.</p>
<p>“Weasley,” he returned affably. </p>
<p>“What news?”</p>
<p>“There’s an attack planned for Guernsey on the 12th. They’re targeting Order sympathizers believed to be living there. I’d consider evacuating the civilians, and extra wards if you’ve got a safe house there.”</p>
<p>“Any idea how many of your lot will be going?”</p>
<p>“I think as many as 15, though I haven’t seen a final list.”</p>
<p>“All right then, that’ll give us something to work with. Anything else?”</p>
<p>He was surprised to find himself a bit nervous as he pulled the folded parchment out of his pocket. “Yeah. Could you pass this on for me? It’s - it’s for Granger.”</p>
<p>George smirked as he took the letter from Malfoy. “A billet-doux, Malfoy? How sweet.”</p>
<p>Draco scoffed. “Hardly. Just make sure it gets to her, yeah?”</p>
<p>“Sure, thing, Draco my boy. Well, best be off - neither of us needs to be caught here chatting. See you next time.”</p>
<p>“Weasley - take care.”</p>
<p>George paused, then said quietly, “You too, mate.”</p>
<p>=======================</p>
<p>Granger wasn’t at Order headquarters when George arrived. He’d dutifully passed on the intelligence he’d received from Malfoy, then, in a moment of unabashed curiosity, he’d opened the note for Hermione and had a look.</p>
<p>It appeared to be a blank piece of parchment. Despite all of the tricks he’d learned over the years, he was unable to get the note to present anything further, though a <i>revelio<i> did produce the words “sod off, wanker” in an elegant script - which was good for a laugh, but not much else.</i></i></p><p>
  <i>
    <i></i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <i></i>
  </i>
</p>
<p>Resigned to having to tease the information out of Hermione, George went up to a bedroom and laid the note on the dresser as he emptied his pockets and laid down on the bed for the night.</p>
<p>=======================</p>
<p>Hermione came in at 2 am, exhausted after her shift at a stakeout. She’d sat for hours in the cold, waiting for any activity - but nothing ever happened. Still freezing, she stopped by the washroom for a hot shower before going to sleep. </p>
<p>As she undressed and stepped into the shower, groaning softly as the warmth of the water began to ease the cold and achiness, a square of parchment wiggled out from under George’s wallet, floated in midair, then began to fold itself.</p>
<p>She’d decided against washing her hair - it was a project in and of itself, and she needed to sleep more than she needed clean hair. After all the circulation was restored in her extremities and she felt comfortably warm and sleepy, she got out of the shower, drying herself and dressing for bed.</p>
<p>She left the washroom and headed to the room she regularly used - and was brought up short by the sight of - something - hovering in the doorway. Pulling her wand as a precaution, she walked closer, then gasped quietly as she saw what it was.</p>
<p>An origami crane was floating in front of the door, and then came drifting toward her as she stood, wide-eyed. </p>
<p>Plucking it out of mid-air, she hurried into the room, shutting the door quietly but firmly, warding the door and casting a silencing charm for good measure. She tossed her things onto the bed and hurried to the window to pick up the moonlight to assist her in seeing what the crane contained. She unfolded it carefully, lovingly - and found it blank.</p>
<p>But wait. Something was appearing.</p>
<p>In a moment, she found herself looking at a beautiful, hand-drawn rosebud in brilliant full color, red with green leaves. </p>
<p>As she cast a “lumos” to better see the drawing, the rosebud began to bloom. It was several seconds until a gorgeous red rose was in full display, clearly drawn by someone with tremendous talent. </p>
<p>She felt slow tears run down her face as she traced with a fingertip the petals of the rose drawn onto the parchment, then waved her wand over her left forearm, where identical roses faded in to surround her “mudblood” scar. </p>
<p>======================</p>
<p>Miles away, Draco finally felt the warmth on his left forearm which signaled that she’d received his note. He smiled to himself as he glanced down at his Mark - now surrounded by the muggle tattoo of red roses, of his design and a match to hers - before he cast the glamour they’d perfected together to hide their link. </p>
<p>Roses that would never fade. </p>
<p>As the glamour restored, he couldn’t help but hope that someday soon he’d see her face again, hear her voice in person instead of just the echoes of his memories. </p>
<p>He turned away from the window, tucking his thoughts away behind occlumency as he headed for his bed. With luck, he could sleep a bit before the morning, where he would yet again face another in the seemingly endless succession of days at war.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>In one of the Facebook groups I belong to, someone asked whether there had been any fics written based upon the Journey song “Send Her My Love.” This is my quick take on the idea.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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